


Winter is coming

by onahunt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Coming Out, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Strangers to Lovers, Teacher Castiel, Thanksgiving, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-02 12:35:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2812190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onahunt/pseuds/onahunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NOT a Game of Thrones crossover! </p><p>Every year the town of Lawrence gets ready for the holidays the only way they know how – with their annual winter festival. The whole town comes together in the week long celebrations in December. Starting with the winter farmers' and local business' markets around the town on the opening weekend and finishing with the prestigious winter parade the following; it's everyone's favourite time of year.  </p><p>Except, that is, for Dean Winchester. </p><p>A bit of winter fluff (eventually) where Dean realises what (or who) he really wants after royally screwing up the year before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Every year the town of Lawrence gets ready for the holidays the only way they know how – with their annual winter festival. The whole town comes together in the week long celebrations in December. Starting with the winter farmers' and local business' markets around the town on the opening weekend and finishing with the prestigious winter parade the following; it's everyone's favourite time of year.

Except, that is, for Dean Winchester. Dean had loved the winter festivities as a child, filled with wonder and the innocence of a child at Christmas. As he'd gotten older he'd enjoyed playing for his high school's football team against the high school from the next town over in the annual Winter Bowl (and kicking their butts every year) then flirting with girls over a warm cider as they watched the parade. After he graduated high school and started working at Singer's Garage as a mechanic, he got involved in the planning and behind the scenes side of the parade and became an essential part of the team, he looked forward to it every year.

But not this year. This year, Dean was dreading the planning and the work and the parade, and everything to do with the damn winter festival.

It was the Monday after Halloween and Dean was in a foul mood. He'd spent the day under the hood of an old Buick in Bobby Singer's workshop, tucked away behind the scrap yard Bobby owned, which was a mile away from the garage he'd been barred from for the day due to his “bad attitude scaring the customers. Idjit!”.

Normally working on an old classic would calm any mood Dean had managed to get himself into, because it was general his own internalised problems that got him into these ruts, but today it hadn't touched the spot.

As he pulled his jet black '67 Impala to a stop outside his old high school, he took a breath and tried to assemble his face into less of a scowl. At least, he thought, people might think he's constipated and not question it, that would be better.

He was wrong, of course. As the familiar sight of his old guidance counsellor came into view, he could see by her face that she was already well aware of his current state and was less than pleased.

The passenger door was barely open when, “Boy, you better stow that bad attitude in the trunk of this old car before we get to the meeting or so help me!”

“Hello to you too, Missouri.” Dean muttered, keeping his eyes front and turning the key to start the engine. He knew better than to make eye contact, with eye contact he swore she could see into his head. When he was in school it helped a lot, getting things out in the open, even if it was just to one person he grew to trust. But now, now he was a grown ass man and didn't want his current issue out in the open.

“And don't pout, it doesn't look good on you, Dean.” Missouri said without looking at him. She shut the door with a bit more force than Dean would have liked, but he knew she was trying to get a rise out of him.

They sat in silence for a minute as Dean navigated out of the school's parking lot and into the stream of rush hour traffic heading back into town.

“Good day?” Missouri Moseley was a very clever woman and she'd known Dean since he was eleven – if she wanted to push his buttons, she knew exactly how to do it.

Dean glared at the car in front of him and tightened the grip on the steering wheel.

“Bobby called you.” He grunted.

Missouri tisked. “Of course Bobby called me, I needed warning didn't I? He said you almost bit the head off a kid who needed a tyre changed.”

“I-”

“You what?” She turned her head for the first time to scowl disapprovingly at him. “We know you don't want to go to this meeting tonight, heck the whole town knows you don't want to go to this meeting tonight, but that's no excuse for taking it out on a poor boy with a flat tyre.”

Dean sighed dejectedly, “I know, okay. I'll apologise.”

“Yes you will, and don't take a year to do it.” She turned back to the road. “Time's almost up on that one.”

As Dean glanced over at her, he saw the tell tale glint in Missouri's eye that told Dean exactly what she meant by that comment.

Last year's festival had gone swimmingly, Dean had taken on the responsibility from Bobby for the parade's floats – making sure they were in good working order and that the creative displays weren't going to kill anyone either in the parade or as a bystander – it was a lot of pressure but he'd thrived on the work. He'd celebrated the success in true post-parade tradition with the people he'd worked with on the parade and their friends at The Roadhouse, a bar owned by a family friend.

It had been an anniversary year, so all the celebrations seemed much grander than usual – including the post-parade party. The bar had been packed to the rafters immediately after the parade, local band 'The Hell Hounds' were putting their own unique spin on a selection of Christmas classics and liquor was flowing as in any good party.

Dean was late to the party, along with some of the other organisers who had been clearing up and making sure the floats were securely back in the old bus yard for the night. When he walked in it took him a while to spot his friends. Ellen, the owner of The Roadhouse, spotted him immediately and quickly rushed from behind the bar with a beer and a shot of whiskey which she thrust unceremoniously into his hands.

Thanking his adopted aunt, he spotted his younger brother towering above the crowd and waving like a loon in his direction. Sam always tried to get back from California for the last weekend of the festival, tried and normally failed for one reason or another – he was a hot shot lawyer for some major firm out west and Dean couldn't be more proud – but this year he'd managed to finish up a case in time to fly out. Dean planned on celebrating that as an occasion in it's own right.

And celebrate they did. His friends had managed to grab two tables together before the rush of seasonal patrons had flooded the bar, and they already had a bottle of Jack Daniels and a tray full of shot glasses to set them up for the night.

Dean laughed and joked with his friends for hours, they were by far the loudest group in the joint. As the evening wore on the crowd thinned as parents left to make sure their teens had made it home in time for curfew and those who had work in the morning went to bed. By 11.30pm there were only a handful of groups left and a few people propping up the bar.

That's when Dean spotted him, sitting alone at the bar nursing a beer and taking in the atmosphere with a curious smile.

Dean hadn't seen him before a few weeks ago; the man with the bright blue eyes and the curious smile. He'd stepped in to help with the parade when the teacher from the local elementary had suddenly gone into labour five weeks earlier than expected. Being a fairly new addition to the town, it was his first winter festival and Dean doubted he knew too many people. It was out of common courtesy that Dean found himself sidling up next to the dark haired man at the bar and taking the spare bar stool.

“Hey,” he started with a smile. “I'm Dean.”

The curious smile widened. “Hello Dean, I'm Cas.”

“Nice to meet you, Cas. You're new, right? At the elementary school?” The other man nodded, surprised at Dean's observation. “Well, welcome to Lawrence! Can I get you another?”

Cas looked from the dregs in the bottom of his beer to the now empty glass of whiskey in Dean's hand. “I'll have what you're having, thank you.”

Dean quickly waved Ellen down and ordered the two drinks. When the drinks were set in front of them Dean gave his best wide toothy grin to Ellen who rolled her eyes and gave it to them on the house with a “It's only 'cause you're cute, Winchester.”

“To free booze,” Dean said with a raised glass and a wicked grin on his face.

The two men touched their glasses together with a clink and a laugh, then downed the whiskey.

“So tell me about yourself, Cas.”

Cas talked about how he was chasing substitute teacher jobs around the country and was going to be taking a class of his own in January now Mrs Masters was on maternity, and how happy he was to finally be settling somewhere as nice as Lawrence for longer than a few months. Dean talked about his family, his job and his car. They got on great, drinking and laughing for what seemed like hours.

At some point in the night the two men had moved closer together as they laughed, so with every slight movement their shoulders brushed. Dean hadn't realised how close they were until he turned his head back from ordering another round of drinks to ask another question and came face to face with those dazzling blue eyes, mere inches away from his own. He found himself leaning forward to close the space between them and planting his lips drunkenly on Cas'.

It took Cas a moment to realise what was happening before he started kissing back.

As Cas opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, Dean seemed to come back to his senses. Green eyes opened quickly, pupils blown wide and looking around frantically trying to assess the situation. Dean pushed Cas back as he scrambled to stand up.

Realising what he'd done, in his usual hangout and in front of his friends and family, he did the only thing he could do – he panicked and bolted out the door without so much as a word to anyone.

Dean walked the few blocks back to his apartment in the cold as he mentally chastised himself for kissing a guy, _what the hell?!_ By the time he got home, the warm buzz of alcohol Dean didn't realise he'd had was now completely gone and he realised he'd left his jacket back at the bar, along with his keys and phone. He sat dejectedly on the front step of the building with his head in his hands waiting for someone to go in or out so he could at least sit in the relative warmth until Sam got back.

He didn't have to wait long, forty minutes later Sam came strolling around the corner with Dean's forgotten jacket in his hand. His little brother just patted him on the shoulder before letting them both in.

Dean didn't understand, there must have been upward of twenty people still in the bar when he bailed, they must have seen what happened – if not the kiss then at least his sorry ass fleeing the scene – why was no one saying anything? No one text him or called for the gossip, no one said anything when he finally picked up the courage to leave his apartment a few days later and no one was pointing at him in the street... Hell, Sammy had only asked how his hangover was the next morning, and that kid was the king of questions!

Dean was confused by the lack of interest everyone seemed to be portraying, and he was confused about what had happened at the bar with the ~~kiss~~ incident. But he didn't want to dwell on blue eyes, chapped lips and messy dark hair, so he buried it under booze and women for a solid week and a half, going to bars he knew hosted office parties by the dozen.

By Christmas he was getting no satisfaction out of his extra curricular activities and was miserable. He decided to throw his attention to work and took a second job as a freelance handyman, working evenings and weekends. He'd seen Cas once, coming out of a café chatting happily to Dean's friend Charlie ( _traitor_ ), Dean had crossed the street to avoid them with a heavy heart.

So it had been almost a year of avoiding Cas and any questions about his sex life, to the point that he avoided any social gatherings that consisted of people outside of his immediate friends or family, and hadn't had sex in over 10 months.

To make matters worse, he'd heard that Cas had enjoyed his first ventures into the world of Lawrence's winter festivities so much that he'd volunteered to be on the planning committee this year. Yep, it was not going to be an easy night.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets Cas for the first time since the kissing incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took so long to update this, there goes my plan of having it finished by Christmas! Maybe Christmas 2015... This was originally going to be a two-parter but it's grown a little. Let me know what you think x

Dean sat in silence for the rest of the drive to the Town Hall, stewing on his own thoughts. Missouri hummed a song he couldn't quite place but he didn't want to ask and give the older lady the impression that he was in the mood for idle chit chat. Not that anything Missouri said could be mistaken for idle chit chat, she always seemed to have a point to be made or answers she wanted to get out of you in her own unique way – it always worked, so Dean kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the road.

They finally found a parking space near the Town Hall, it seemed that most people had already arrived even though there was still time before the meeting.

Dean turned off the engine and placed both hands firmly on the steering wheel. His palms were starting to sweat. It would be the first time in almost a year that he'd be in the same room as Cas, the first time he'd hear is deep ~~sexy~~ voice and see his shockingly blue eyes. Of course he'd have to talk to him, he couldn't ignore the guy in front of the committee and the other volunteers. Shit. People would be there who knew, who were at the bar last December. They'd be watching him, them. They'd be watching him and Cas like hawks.

Dean was about to turn the ignition and high tail it out of there when Missouri placed a calming hand on his arm. He whipped his head around to face her, eyes wide in panic and gasping for air.

“Hold your breath,” she said firmly.

Dean's mouth snapped shut at the command, it seemed to break through his haze of panic enough for his brain to respond.

“Okay Dean, I want you to breathe out slowly. From your stomach.” Missouri's words had a slightly softer edge to them now. “It's just a panic attack, you're not in any danger. Now breathe in, all the way down to your gut.

Dean did as he was told. Breathing in and out slowly, feeling the cloud lifting slightly and his brain function returning.

“How old are you?”

“34.”

“What year was Sam born?”

This was familiar, this routine Missouri used on Dean when he got like this. He'd tried it on his own when he'd felt a panic attack coming but it was much harder without his old guidance counsellor there to talk him through it.

“1983”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“2”

“When did you kiss Cas Novak?”

“December 15th” Dean's eyes shot up. “You tricked me.”

“It worked didn't it?” She chuckled at the betrayed look on Dean's face, taking her hand from his arm she patted his cheek. “Sweet boy, I don't care who you kiss, as long as you treat them right.”

Dean sensed the disapproval in her voice, knowing it was at his actions post-kiss rather than at the kiss itself. Post-kiss. That was how Dean referred to the current time in his life, in his head, never out loud. He refused to accept that he'd become obsessed with that kiss, even though it's been at the back of his mind in everything he's done since December 15th, and found himself pushing away the vestiges of dreams about dark hair and blue eyes at least one morning a week, if not more.

“Let's go in, no one in that hall is going to bite you know!” Missouri exited the car and started making her way toward the old building.

Dean ran his left hand through his short sandy brown hair and sighed. He quickly got out of the car and rushed after her before he lost the nerve.

They were the last to arrive in the meeting room, quickly finding two empty chairs they waved apologetically at the chairman of the committee as he called the meeting to order. Tables had been placed in a square to enable discussion and as Dean looked around the room at the familiar, and some not so familiar faces, his eyes landed on the man sitting directly opposite him.

Cas looked, well, he looked the same. His dark hair was ruffled in a 'just got out of bed' kind of way which led Dean's mind off onto a tangent he quickly snapped out of, and he still had that curious smile on his handsome face as he listened intently to the chairman speak. He had grown some stubble since the last time Dean had seen him, it suited him and Dean wondered what it would be like to kiss a man with stubble – would it scratch or would it add to the whole experience? _What the hell was wrong with him?!_ Not a gay thought in his life and as soon as this blue eyed stranger walks into his life he's turning into a friggin' fairy!

Dean hadn't noticed he'd been staring at Cas until the man turned his head slightly and caught his gaze, still smiling but the curiosity seemed to have turned to something more akin to mischievousness.

Missouri gave him an elbow to the ribs and a nod towards the chairman. Dean coughed and tried to remember what was being said in the room over his internal ramblings about not being as camp as a field full of boy scouts.

Lawrence Elementary was designing the new float – bingo!

“Sounds great.” Dean forced a smile, he really needed to be anywhere but here right now.

“Excellent, Mr Novak will be your point of contact for the school and has offered to help with the carpentry side of things. Moving on.”

Dean let the rest of the meeting wash over him as the realisation hit him that he'd actually have to talk to Cas, they'd be spending the best part of a month working together at the most romantic time of the year.  _Shit!_

Before he knew it, the meeting was over and people started filtering out of the room. Missouri said something about getting a ride home with someone who's name Dean didn't catch. All Dean could focus on was the dark haired, blue eyed stubble that was walking in Dean's direction.

“Hello Dean.”

Dean cast his eye around the room quickly to see if anyone was watching, nobody was.

“Hi Cas,” Dean tried looking anywhere but directly into the other man's eyes, his chest, the floor, his God-damn sex hair.

“Are you free for a coffee now?”

Dean's face flushed as he stammered out an “I- uh...” Glancing at his watch, he realised the meeting had gone on for an hour and forty-five minutes and he hadn't paid attention to any of it.

“I thought it would be good to meet to talk about the float. I want a firm understanding on what is and isn't possible before I ask a class of eight-year-olds their ideas tomorrow – trust me, it's better to know now than disappoint them in the long run.”

The younger man relaxed slightly, it was just a business coffee. A coffee and a talk about the parade floats. This is what normal people do, they have coffee and talk business. He could do that.

“Yeah, sure. There's a place around the corner that isn't too bad.”

Cas beamed and gestured for Dean to lead the way.

The walk to the coffee shop, while short, was awkward. At least it was from Dean's point of view, Cas seemed content to walk in silence.

Dean turned to Cas in the street just outside the coffee shop. “I need to say something- Before we start working together you should know... I'm not gay.”

Cas stared at Dean blankly.

“I mean, what happened last year was... it was a fluke. A one off. I was drunk, you were drunk. It just happened.”

“Dean,” Cas put a hand on his shoulder gently, a soft smile on his face. “It's okay. I know what happened at the bar was out of the norm for you, but I appreciate you trying to explain. It won't affect the project, right?”

Cas was calm and reassuring _him_? Cas wasn't angry or upset that he'd pretty much forced a kiss then run off to hide for eleven months. This might not be as awkward as he originally thought.

“Right, water under the bridge,” Dean smiled, feeling some of the weight of the past year lifting off his shoulders. “Coffee?”

Cas let Dean buy his coffee, at the younger man's insistence as a small form of payment for being a dick. They sat opposite each other, each warming their hands on their mugs and testing the temperature of the coffee before taking tentative sips.

“I'm gay,” Cas said, blue eyes peering over his raised coffee mug. “That's not going to be a problem is it?”

“What?” Dean put his mug down. “No man, I don't care if you're into guys or girls, or both, whatever.”

Cas frowned. “So it's just you then?”

Dean was confused.

“You're not homophobic when it comes to other people, but when it comes to yourself...” Cas trailed off. He knew he was pushing it but he couldn't help himself.

Dean's face darkened but before he could say anything, Cas had placed his mug down on the table and was holding his hands up in surrender. “I'm sorry, I was out of line.”

But Dean knew Cas had a point. He'd never been homophobic, hell he'd been friends with Charlie since she moved to Lawrence in 8 th grade and he defended that Aaron kid from the school bullies for as long as he can remember. But when it came to his own sexuality he'd automatically assumed he was 100% straight and any hint of a thought or dream that stepped outside of that notion was quickly suppressed into the deep dark recesses of his mind. But ever since he saw Cas at the bar that night, he was finding it more and more difficult to suppress those thoughts. Post-kiss his mind has been a swirling mess of confusion, self-doubt and fear.

Dean scrubbed a calloused hand over his face and through his hair before sighing. “Look, can we just keep this professional? It's been a really long year and I just want to get through the winter festival without any crap, okay?”

“Of course, I apologise for making you uncomfortable.” Cas picked up his coffee in both hands and took a sip. “So, how big is the float we need to decorate?”

The conversation flowed after it's rocky start, Dean was happy to answer all of Cas' questions about the float and which design elements have worked best in the past, include what to avoid, and the pair discussed and agreed on a schedule for the work to be carried out.

As Dean walked back to his car he thought it wouldn't be so bad working with Cas after all.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean reluctantly visits Cas' class to judge the winter parade art competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter - so sorry this is taking so long to write. I need to find a way of being able to write fanfiction for a living, then I won't have to go to work and waste time which could have been spent writing!

Dean had agreed to judge the designs for the float, at Cas' request “for the children”, during their coffee/business meeting, which was why he found himself standing outside his old elementary school on Thursday afternoon. From the outside, the old building hadn't changed much in the twenty-something years since he'd been there. He had fond memories of his latter years at the school, his earlier ones were tainted by the death of his mother and frequent visits to the principal's office for acting out. But as he stood outside the big red double doors, hands firmly wedged into the recesses of his jacket pockets, those memories dropped from the forefront of his mind as nerves took over.

It was just an hour, he told himself, with a classroom full of eight-year-olds. He loved kids. It wouldn't be so bad, and Cas would be there with his smile and those eyes... Dean took a deep breath and walked through the doors before he chickened out.

After stopping to sign-in at the small reception and ask for directions to Mr Novak's room, he made his way through the familiar corridors, stopping outside a bright blue door. A tiny part of his brain registered it was the same shade as Cas' eyes as he looked through the window.

It took him a while to spot the teacher but he soon picked out the dark messy hair in the midst of a throng of students. Cas stood up from his crouch to attach a bit of paper to a string suspended from one side of the room to the other using clothes pegs. The children around him were jostling each other to try and make their piece of art the next one to be added to the string. Dean smiled at the sight of Cas trying to hang the pictures while getting the children to calm down, it was kind of adorable.

Once Cas had hung all of the pictures, Dean tentatively opened the door, knocking on the hardwood to signal his arrival.

“Mr Winchester!” Cas exclaimed. “Come in and meet my class. Class, this is Mr Winchester.”

“Good afternoon, Mr Winchester.” The children chimed in unison.

All eyes in the room were trained on him with excitement, a few hands shot up in the air and Dean gulped. He wasn't used to this much undivided attention and always felt nervous when speaking in front of a crowd.

Cas seemed to sense this and waved the arms down.

“Mr Winchester isn't here to answer your questions, he's here to judge the winter parade art competition.” Cas smiled and clapped his hands together. “Who wants to get started?”

The room erupted in shouts of “me” and “I do” with the children jumping up and down, some grabbed Dean by the hands and dragged him over to the makeshift art gallery. Dean relaxed and found himself enjoying the eager chatter from the kids.

Dean played the role of art critic very well, he slowly paced up and down the line of string, one hand stroking his non-existent beard – he made sure to shave this morning as his stubble was getting a bit too scruffy – pausing every now and again to mutter a pensive “mmm”. The kids were eating it up. When Dean caught Cas' eye he winked and was quietly please with himself when Cas blushed slightly.

“Well, Mr Novak,” Dean turned to face the line of children and their teacher. “This is a very impressive art collection you have here, some most excellent pieces.”

Most of the pictures were decent enough, a few haphazard ones thrown in to the mix but it was a bunch of eight-year-olds so he couldn't fault them. It really did look like everyone had put their all into the work, even the Batman float, which was Dean's personal favourite. Most of them were based on the winter festival theme, thank God, but he had no idea which one to choose.

“Thank you, Mr Winchester.” Cas replied. “I don't know how you'll choose, they are all so good.”

_Light bulb!_

“Yes, yes they are. Which is why I have decided to use all of them!”

Cas choked, the kids all gasped.

“That's right, we'll take bits from each one and combine them into the best float this town has ever seen.”

Everyone cheered and Dean really hoped this was going to work or it was going to be the most random float the town had ever seen.

Cas mouthed a silent “thank you” through the noise and Dean thought that was another small win in the 'make it up to Cas for being a dick' list he seemed to be keeping in his head.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and feedback, let me know if you find any spelling mistakes!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean goes to the Roadhouse for the first time since 'the incident'.

When the bell rang to signal the end of the school day, Cas and Dean were satisfied they had a pretty damn good looking plan for the their float. Dean wondered why something that captured every aspect of a winter in Lawrence had never been turned into a float before. Then he remembered he and Cas had to build the damn thing… it was going to be a lot of work, that’s why!

Dean stayed behind after class, silently helping Cas straighten out the classroom and collecting the drawings that littered the room.

When the last desk was back in place, a chair neatly tucked under it, Dean loitered around the teacher’s desk as Cas gathered his belongings.

“Thanks for today,” the dark haired man smiled, shrugging on his trench coat. “The kids really enjoyed having you here.”

“Just the kids?” Dean ventured.

Cas raised an eyebrow.

“Fishing for compliments, Mr Winchester?”

Dean blushed. What the hell was going on with him? First he kisses the guy, then he blows him off (not blows him, get your head out of the gutter Winchester), and now he’s flirting. With. A. Guy.

Luckily Cas laughed it off. “Come on, let’s go grab a drink and forget about how much work you’ve just created for us.”

Dean drove them to the Roadhouse, the sounds of Led Zeppelin filtered softly through the radio breaking their not entirely uncomfortable silence.

The closer they got to the bar, the more fear started to creep over Dean. It was the first time in almost a year that he’d been to his favourite hangout, his last visit ending in a quick exit following the ~~kiss~~ incident.  

When they’d parked and started walking towards the entrance, the nervous younger man thought about subtly steering Cas to a smaller bar a few doors down. His thoughts broken by Cas pushing through the heavy door and into the building. With a gulp and a mental note to stop being such a coward, Dean followed him in.

He wasn’t quite sure what he expected from his first visit to the Roadhouse after so long, nothing had changed and no one batted an eye as the two men walked up to the bar together. Jo was working the bar, which was quiet due to the early hour, she smiled as they approached.

“My, my. Cas you finally managed to persuade the prodigal son to return!” She grinned, cleaning a glass with a cloth.

Dean bit back his ‘shut up, Joanna’ when Cas chuckled along with Jo.

“It seems I did,” Cas’ eyes twinkled as he cast a glance to Dean. “Two beers please, Jo.”

“Coming right up.” Jo shelved the clean wine glass and threw the cloth over her shoulder. She reached for two bottles of Dean’s favourite brand and twisted the caps off. Placing the beers in front of them, she smiled. “This one’s on the house. Welcome back Winchester.”

Grabbing his drink, Dean raised his glass in a salute and offered her a shy smile before turning to find a table out of the way. Cas followed him to the back of the room and into a booth.

“So, you come here quite a bit then?”

“Yes,” Cas nodded. “There are bars closer to the school and my apartment but everyone here has been extremely friendly. I often meet Charlie, Benny, Kevin and Ash here, and Jo of course.”

Dean choked on his beer. “You’ve been hanging out with my friends?”  

He knew Cas had met up with Charlie, he’d seen them that one time from a distance, but to have his entire friendship group take Cas under their wings knowing how uncomfortable he was with the older man. He was angry. But then, did they know it made him uncomfortable? He hadn’t spoken about the ~~kiss~~ incident – dammit, he might as well call it what it was – The Kiss, so how would they know. His friends were a good bunch, they probably took pity on the guy he’d blown off and then fallen for him just like Dean had that night, with his curious smile and his quirky sense of humour. Winchester, you are such a dick!

“You haven’t spoken to them in almost a year,” Cas said cautiously. “I really like them, and I think they like me, even if at first it was a friendship based on pity.”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair.

“I’m sorry, man. I’m such a dick.”

Cas’ lips turned up into a half smile. “You don’t need to apologise. Moving from place to place can be hard, and I don’t often get to meet such lovely people or have the time to become good friends with anyone.”

It made Dean sad that Cas didn’t have many friends before moving to Lawrence, and he vowed to be one of those friends from now on.

“I guess I’m sorry for the way those friendships came about then. If it helps, I doubt it was pity. You’re great and they would have taken to you straight off the bat.”

The twinkle came back to Cas’ eyes at that. He picked up his beer and held it up in front of him. “To my greatness.”

Dean laughed, clinking their bottles together. “To your ego!”

Conversation flowed easily after that, it reminded Dean of the night they met when they had talked about nothing and everything at once, it felt natural. It didn’t take long to finish their beers, Dean quickly ordered two more at the bar after a restroom pit stop.

The bar was getting busier as the afternoon turned into evening, Dean was contemplating asking Cas if he fancied getting something to eat when Ellen walked up to the pair with a tray of food and drinks.

“So it’s true, you decided to grace our meagre establishment with your presence,” The bar owner sounded less than impressed with Dean.

“I’ve been busy?”

“Busy avoiding your problems, as usual.” She muttered setting down two plates of burgers and fries, and another bottle of beer each. “Just in case you’ve forgotten what good honest proper food tastes like.”

Ellen gave Dean a sharp smack to the back of his head before walking back to the bar area. Dean rubbed at the sore spot but grinned, he hadn’t had Roadhouse food for far too long, and he had almost forgotten how good it tasted he realised. Plus, Ellen bringing him food was generally a sign that she wasn’t as mad at him as she made out to be, it took him a good chunk of his teenage years to figure that one out.

He noted that he had the Classic Roadhouse Burger, while the other man had the Big Cheese Melt Burger – extra cheese and extra meat. Maybe Ellen was still a little bit mad at him.

After they’d eaten and had another beer, Dean decided to call it a night. Cas seemed to be getting slightly tipsy and they both had to be up early in the morning to start work on the float. They parted ways outside the bar, each going in the opposite direction as they started their short walks home. Dean would pick Baby, his car, up in the morning before heading to Bobby’s workshop.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean start working on the float together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if anyone got a notification that a new chapter had been posted the other day and then it wasn't there - this is the new chapter, the previous one was all messed up. I know this has been a very long time coming, but it's almost Christmas and it got me in the mood to carry on with this :) x

The next evening, Cas walked into Bobby’s large workshop carrying two coffees and two large slices of cherry pie with plastic cutlery and napkins. He placed the food and drink down on the bench nearest the door and started looking for Dean. He knew the other man was around because a rock song Cas vaguely recognised was blaring from an old radio in the corner and the deep voice of a man was singing along. He followed the sound of the singing around the side of the large decorated float and stopped to watch the scene before him.

 

Dean was in his element. His head was thrown back as he sang a line of the song at the top of his voice, his eyes were shut and he held a crowbar away from his face like a microphone. The chorus finished and he started using the crowbar to ease some painted plywood away from the main structure of the float, still singing along and bobbing his head along with the tune.

 

Cas couldn’t help but smile. Dean seemed so relaxed and carefree, like the man he’d met at the bar last year, so far from the cautious, overthinking man he’d had coffee with and dinner the previous night. Dean had started to relax once the beer was flowing and Ellen hadn’t lynched him upon entering the bar, but he still had his guard set to self-preservation mode – something Charlie had warned him about when he told her they’d be working together on this project.

 

As he watched, Dean managed to free the bit of wood from the float and turned to set it on a small pile behind him. Cas knew he should look away or make himself known, but he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t his fault if he noticed how well Dean’s old oil-stained jeans clung to the curve of his ass as he bent over, or that he saw the brief flash of black underwear as a well-placed hole became visible with the stretching of the jean material. He should have looked away, but he didn’t. He was only human after all and Dean was by far the most attractive person he’d ever kissed – or more accurately – who had kissed him.

 

That night he really had thought there was something there between them, a potential for something more at least, until Dean fled the scene. And maybe there would be or could be something, given time and a lot of patience. Dean is obviously confused and probably scared about what his feelings mean, and by the time he’s ready to face the fact that he might not be entirely straight, Cas will probably have moved on to a new job in a different town. So he promised himself he would stamp down any romantic or lust-filled feelings he had for the green-eyed Adonis and keep it purely friendly; he doesn’t want Dean’s first encounter with a man to end before it’s even begun so they can only ever be friends. That doesn’t mean he can’t try and help Dean through the minefield of coming out.

 

The song reached its key change and Dean paused what he was doing to belt out the higher notes, terribly out of tune and off key but it just added to the man’s charm, before whipping around in some sort of clumsy rock move and spotting Cas grinning from the other side of the truck.

 

He couldn’t help but take a mental picture of the adorable deer-in-headlights look on the younger man’s face as he realised Cas had been watching him; Dean’s eyes were wide, the pink shade of his cheeks and neck bringing out the green even more so than usual as Dean stood frozen to the spot.

 

* * *

_Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!_

 

Cas had caught him. He thought for sure it was earlier than the time they agreed to meet and yet Cas was standing metres away from him, a smirk on his face and eyes twinkling with mischief. _Crap!_

 

“How- How long have you been here?” He asks tentatively, lowering the mic/crowbar to his side.

 

“Since the first chorus,” Cas grinned. “I didn’t want to interrupt your creative flow.”

 

Dean felt his face heat up even more, if that was even possible, and he tried desperately to find a witty remark in the recesses of his brain – nada, nothing – his mind had ceased functioning and all he could do was rub the back of his neck with the hand not holding the crowbar and look for an escape.

 

Luckily Cas wasn’t a cruel man. “I brought coffee and pie.”

 

Dean smiled gratefully and followed Cas back to the workbench near the entrance in awkward silence. He turned the radio down as he passed it before accepting a plastic fork and a carton with a slice of pie in it from the other man.

 

“I hope cherry’s okay, I know you said you like pie but I don’t think we discussed flavours.”

 

Dean looked up from his food gingerly at the teacher, who seemed to be looking at him equally as cautiously – they had discussed Dean’s love of pie, at the bar that night, and Cas remembered. Something inside Dean fluttered and he looked down at the pie again.

 

“Cherry’s great, thanks man.” He said quickly before shoving a fork full of deliciousness into his mouth.

 

He stole a glance and was glad Cas seemed to relax after his reassurance, tucking into his own slice with gusto. He stole a few more glances as the other man ate, becoming mesmerised by a pink tongue that flicked out to lick away the crumbs that clung to a bottom lip.

 

“So what are we doing tonight?” Cas’ deep voice snapped Dean out of his trance and he flushed again, knowing he’d been caught staring.

 

“Well, we need to strip the rest of the truck – I think that will take up enough time tonight.” Dean replied, getting back into business mode. “We should try and keep as much of the scenery intact as possible, we might be able to repurpose some of it for this year.”

 

When they’d both finished their coffees they returned to the float and Dean handed Cas a pair of gloves.

 

“What are these for?” Cas questioned.

 

“Safety.”

 

“Where are yours?”

 

“I got one pair and you’re wearing ‘em,” Dean replied gruffly, he wasn’t going to back down from this. “Don’t want your soft teacher hands getting splinters.”

 

Cas glared at him but put the gloves on, he then accepted a crowbar Dean handed him. As he brushed past Dean to move to start on the other end of the truck bed, he leaned closed and whispered, “Don’t worry about my hands Dean, they’re used to working with wood.”

 

The tickle of breath on his neck and the proximity alone would have been enough to cause Dean to blush, but the insinuation of Cas’ words added about a thousand degrees to the heat he suddenly felt. He knew Cas was just teasing and it didn’t mean anything, but that didn’t stop his heart from pounding in his chest and it wasn’t the start of a panic attack.

 

He started stripping away the large banner running along the back of the float, a simple task that required little concentration and allowed him to watch Cas work, making sure the guy was working safely.

 

They worked for two hours, stopping only for water, with the radio and the occasional grunt the only sounds. Eventually they had the entire truck bed laid bare, with a good selection of wood and decorations they determined they could use again with a bit of modification.

 

Dean grinned at Cas as they stood in the middle of the empty truck bed. “Nice work, I thought for sure that would take two nights to finish.”

 

“You doubted my skills, Mr Winchester?” Cas feigned offence, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “You cut me deeply.”

 

“Only for the first half hour,” Dean winked before jumping down and heading over to turn the radio off.

 

Cas followed close behind, pulling off the work gloves and collecting his car keys from the bench. “I have done some carpentry before, this isn’t my first rodeo.”

 

“Well I’m glad to hear it,” Dean said, sounding impressed. “It’ll make this project much easier having someone who knows what they’re doing on board. So I’ll see you next week, Wednesday?”

 

“You certainly will, any preference on pie flavour?”

 

“Apple. If in doubt, always go apple.”

 

Cas nodded, smiling. “Have a great weekend.”

 

Dean watched Cas leave before tidying away the tools and throwing their empty coffee cups and pie cartons in the trash.

 

On the drive home he realised it would be five days until he saw Cas again, and he didn’t even have his number in case he needed to contact him. He needed to talk to Charlie.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the wise and wonderful Charlie Bradbury.

Charlie called Cas early the next day wanting to know all the gossip from the previous night’s work, Cas almost rolled his eyes at her initial screech down the phone.

“Good morning to you too,” he chuckled.

“Soo, tell me everything. How’s Dean? Was he trying to act all macho to convince you he wasn’t interested or did he try and charm your pants off?”

Cas did roll his eyes this time. “I told you I wasn’t going to play this game, Charlie.”

“Urgh, I know but he’s my best friend who hasn’t spoken to me in like a year and I just want to know how he is!”

He sighed. “I know and I’m sure he’ll come around, but I won’t be your go between. Besides, he was neither of those things.”

“Oh really?” Cas could hear the eyebrow being raised by the tone of her voice. “That doesn’t sound like the Dean Winchester I know, he’s either one or the other.”

“He was shy and awkward, if you must know.” And it was adorable. “It didn’t help I caught him mid-song to a particularly bad rendition of whatever was playing on the radio. And then I made a rather crude comment about wood, I think I may have pushed him a little too far last night.”

“Pfft! Dean needs pushing or he’d stand still for the rest of his life. It can’t have been that bad, and I can’t imagine him as shy and awkward.” She challenged.

“Honestly, I’ve never seen someone blush so many times in one night in my life. I thought he was going to stop breathing at one point.”

Charlie laughed. “Well he must have it bad for you then, he’s never been like that around any of his ex-girlfriends.”

Cas chose to gloss over that comment. “Promise me you’ll let him come out at his own pace, Charlie. He’s like a startled deer right now, he needs a friend.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” There was a buzz on the line. “Speak of the devil, he just text asking if I wanted to catch up tonight. Now I get to hear his side of the story and start planting the seeds of love… ew, not like that!”

“I know what you meant, and I sincerely hope you reconsider. He’s very confused and doesn’t need your interference!”

“Always the voice of wisdom,” she sighed audibly. “Okay, well you have fun with your lesson plans.”

“Goodbye Charlie, enjoy your catch up with Dean.”

With a hasty, “laters!” she hung up.

Cas threw his phone down on the coffee table of his apartment, next to the folder where he kept his lesson plans. He didn’t always need to write them as with most schools he only worked at for a few weeks while a teacher was off for one reason or another, so he could usually follow theirs. But this placement being a year in length meant he really had to put the work in.

As much as he tried to get his concentration back onto the work in front of him, he couldn’t. He was distracted and frustrated. Damn Charlie and her suggestion that Dean might actually be interested in him.

He felt bad for teasing Dean with the comment about wood last night but the flush of embarrassment on the young man’s face as a result was both amusing and arousing. He didn’t know how one guy could be so confident one minute and so vulnerable the next. The man was an enigma and a sexy one at that.

Damn, he wasn’t going to get any work done if he didn’t relieve some of his tension. He quickly grabbed the laptop from the table and closed Pinterest (always useful for activity ideas), making his way to the bedroom he quickly typed in his favourite porn site and hit enter.

* * *

Dean spent the day on a roof that had had the unfortunate circumstance of a tree branch falling on it and causing some damage. The owner of the house has already had someone come and remove the rotting tree and had called Dean up in a panic the day before when their builder didn’t turn up. Luckily he’d been able to push the job he was supposed to be doing today back to Sunday so he could help the poor woman. But it did mean he had yet another weekend where he worked through… so pretty much the same as every weekend this year.

Being alone on the roof all day with nothing to distract him (next time he’s bringing an extension cable for the radio), he was left alone with his thoughts. Thoughts that involved endless blue eyes, impossibly messy hair and confusingly chapped lips.

_Ah, crap!_

He pulls out his phone and fires off a text to Charlie hoping she hasn’t changed her number in the last year. He really needs to talk to someone and he can’t think of a more appropriate person than his gay best friend to convince him it’s just a phase. He can’t be gay, it’s just Cas messing with his mind…

Thankfully she texts back not ten minutes later and Dean can continue his work with some reassurance that he might actually get some advice on how to get Cas out of his head.

For the rest of the day he focused on different ways of apologising to his oldest friend, not even really sure what he was supposed to be apologising for.

Everything he’d thought up that afternoon was blown out of the water when Charlie eventually arrived at his apartment though. When he opened the door, after nervously pacing for a few circuits of his small hallway, Charlie grinned up at him with the same old sparkle in her eyes as if nothing had happened, the only difference he could see was that she’d cut her hair much shorter.

“S’up bitch?” She forced the giant pizza box she’d brought with her into his arms and breezed past him into the apartment, finally flopping down onto his couch ceremoniously once she’d scanned the room to see if anything had changed, Dean presumed.

“Good to see you too, Charles,” Dean smiled parking the pizza on the coffee table and perching on the arm of the couch. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Nope, I’m good. I’m all for that pizza right now though.”

Dean laughed and opened up the box, noting she’d bought half and half of his and her favourite toppings.

They ate and shared small talk, mostly about the latest seasons of their favourite shows which Dean had to admit he was behind on because of his two jobs. Charlie kept quiet during his admission but he could feel the disapproval rolling off her in the same way it did from Sam and Bobby whenever it came up – he knew he was pushing himself too hard, he had been all year, but it distracted him from his thoughts, or at least it used to.

“Soooo,” Charlie dragged out, finally turning the conversation to the here and now. “How is it being the head honcho in charge of the parade floats this year?”

“It’s fine, I’ve got my schedule for all the servicing, safety checks and even arranged the meetings to brief the drivers. I know it’s the same guys volunteering every year but it can’t to have a refresher.”

Something in the way his red-headed friend was looking at him with a pointed stare told him that’s not what she’d been asking about. Charlie already knew how organised he was, needing to know what was happening and when, it was the little control he could maintain in his life, but that was definitely not what she wanted to know.

Dean coughed to cover the suddenly awkward silence he knew she was determined not to fill. Damn her stubborn ways.

“It’s going fine, okay? That what you want to hear? Me and Cas are working on the project and it’s all okay.” Dean threw her a challenging glare. “I need to text him about the project actually, don’t suppose you have his number?”

“And why would you think I have his number, Dean?”

“A, because you’re Charlie Bradbury. And 2, because you guys hang out.”

“What can I say? He’s my people,” Charlie announced smiling smugly.

“What, gay or a nerd?”

“Both,” she grinned proudly. “Much like someone else I know…”

It took Dean a second but when he finally caught on to her insinuation he balked, then glared at her

“Oh come on, Dean I’ve known you forever. The gaydar is strong in this one.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively causing Dean’s glare to deepen into a frown and for him to cross his arms in defence. “Aren’t you just a little bit gay for Cas? Not to mention Han and Doctor Sexy!”

The mechanic rolled his eyes to the ceiling and unfolded his arms with a huff.

“Just leave it would you?”

“No way, you called me remember.”

“Yeah, to catch up with one of my oldest friends,” Dean stood and stomped across the living room and into the kitchen. He could tell Charlie was following him. The conversation was not going the way he’d hoped.

“And to get Cas’ number.” She was goading him, and unfortunately when Charlie poked enough, Dean usually caved.

“For the carnival work. I didn’t invite you over to be interrogated about my sexuality,” he had his hand on the fridge door, intending to get a beer, when he remembered he was all out. Just his luck! He settled for resting his head on the hand still on the fridge door. Taking a few breaths, he tried to calm his voice. “Please Charlie, I- I don’t- I’m not…“

A small hand came to rest on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s okay, I get it.” His friend said softly.

“You do?” Dean couldn’t help but notice the hopeful lift to his own voice; if anyone could explain these strange thoughts and feelings to him, it would be Charlie. He turned to face her. “Because I sure don’t.”

Before he knew it, Charlie had engulfed him in a hug.

“You’re confused, I’ve been there.” She pulled back just enough so she could look him in the eye. “Albeit I was nine, but hey, close enough. You don’t need to define it right now, but you do need to accept that you might not be entirely straight and you need to figure out what Cas means to you before either of you get hurt.”

“Why would either of us get hurt?”

Charlie sighed and stepped back to lean against the kitchen table.

“Reasons, many reasons.” She said seriously. “For starters, you can’t use him as an experiment – that kiss last year and then bailing like that, not cool Winchester.”

Dean hung his head in shame at the brutal reminder.

“You can’t do that to him again, you need to take it slowly and not rush in with your horny man hormones. Because if you change your mind or freak out, you’ll just hurt Cas. I know he’s a grown man and he’s been very diplomatic about the whole thing, but I can tell that as much restraint as he might have, underneath it all, he really does like you. And he won’t be around forever, his contract’s up at the end of December. He’ll have to find another job and that probably means moving.”

“This is too much,” Dean says, pacing up and down the aisle between the table and the fridge with his hands in his hair. “I can’t be gay, Charles. I just, I can’t be.”

“Ooookay,” she sighed. “Too much too soon. How about we sit you down, eh?”

He felt himself be guided back towards the living room and onto the sofa as he quietly panicked about what being gay would mean for him, for his work and his family. What would Sam think? What would his dad say if he was still alive? Would Bobby kick his ass?

Charlie distracted him by catching him up on all the gossip he’d missed since last year.

“What if I mess it up?” He asked quietly two hours later, head resting on his younger friend’s shoulder as she lightly stroked his hair, Return of the Jedi quietly playing in the background.

“Then you mess it up, you get over it. It’ll suck for a while but you move on.”

“What if I suck at being gay?”

Charlie suddenly laughed, loudly and Dean had to pull away for fear of permanent hearing damage. Her laugh was infectious and soon he found himself joining in.

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, in the history of ever-ness!” Charlie spluttered, her cheeks wet with laughing tears. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Red.” He put his arm around her shoulder as they both calmed down. “I’m sorry for, you know, everything. Be my gay guru?”

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! Hope you all have a fantastic time doing whatever you're going to be doing.
> 
> So yet again this fic won't be finished in time for Christmas (it was supposed to be a one-shot way back when but grew), but I have lots of ideas down on paper so I'll keep going with it. I'm having a bit of writer's block on some of my other fics so I'm going to try and get as far as possible with this one in the next few weeks once Christmas calms down.
> 
> Let me know what you think. 
> 
> Much Christmassy love, Ona x


	7. Chapter 7

Between working both jobs and starting the safety checks on the other parade trucks stored in various places around town, Dean didn’t have much time to dwell on the fact that he may have inadvertently come out to himself and Charlie on Saturday night.

He also hadn’t had time to text Cas after getting his number from said red-head. Although that wasn’t entirely true. He spent all of the time he could have been texting Cas, thinking of something he actually needed to tell the guy. They had arranged everything at their last meeting for Wednesday and Dean was pretty sure Cas would be insulted if he sent a text to remind the seemingly organised man of the time he should turn up. He failed to come up with anything worthy of a text.

It was as he was buying himself a sandwich from the little bakery-come-café around the corner from the garage Wednesday lunchtime that he thought of something to say. He’d been studying the dessert stand as he waited in line to pay and found himself making eyes at the tempting pecan pie on display, he remembered Cas said he’d bring an apple pie. As soon as he paid for his lunch and made his way outside, he pulled out his phone and fired off a text.

He quickly shoved the phone back in his pocket and headed back to the office to try and get some warmth from the small electric heater in there. The weather was starting to get colder as they neared the middle of November, after an unusually warm Halloween Dean had been afraid they’d be eating Thanksgiving dinner from Bobby’s grill. Now he was pretty certain they’d get snow for Christmas this year and could enjoy their turkey from an actual oven and therefore without the charring.

* * *

 

Cas was on lunch duty in the school cafeteria when he felt the tell-tale vibrate of a text against his leg from the phone in his pocket. _Who texts these days?_ He couldn’t check it in front of the children, school policy, so had to wait to be relieved by another teacher so he could eat his own lunch.

He quickly escaped back to what he could refer to as his classroom for the next five weeks. Once he was sat at his desk he pulled out the phone. The message was from a number he didn’t recognise, probably a wrong number and someone’s mother trying to get hold of them. He opened it nevertheless.

_Unknown: Hey Cas, thought you needed my number in case anything comes up and you can’t make it sometime. Don’t forget the pie! Dean_

Cas smiled involuntarily and saved Dean’s number. He’d already scouted out which bakeries closest to the workshop were open and when, and which did apple pie. 

_Cas: How dare you insinuate I’d forget something as important as pie! Although I am more of a muffin person, myself. Texting - haven’t you heard of Whatsapp?! C x_

He set his phone back on the desk and started on the sandwich and bag of chips he had stashed in his desk draw that morning. His phone buzzed quietly not a minute later.

_Dean: You’re crazy, pie wins every time. Whatsapp? D_

Cas rolled his eyes, Dean probably didn’t even have a smart phone from what he’d gauged from hearing Charlie and Benny talk about the man. Cas may be older than the mechanic but he enjoyed trying to keep up with current trends and technology, maybe because it helped him stay in touch with people when he moved from town to town, but Dean was more 70s rock and classic cars than Facebook and Netflix. That was a challenge for another time.

_Cas: Never mind. See you later! x_

He barely had time to finish his lunch before the bell was ringing and he had to sprint down the hall to collect his class. Just a brief few text messages with the green-eyed Adonis was enough to distract him to hell and he just knew the afternoon was going to drag. 

Dammit, he wasn’t going to get attached. 

* * *

 

Dean hummed along to the quiet strum of Stairway to Heaven on the battered old radio as he measured and marked the plywood on the bench in front of him, he knew Cas would be freakishly early like last time and he didn’t want to get caught out singing at full volume… again.

He was nervous, sure, but he had put that energy to good use in the last half hour and had quite a pile of plywood marked up and ready to be cut into shape. During the first ten minutes he kept catching himself glancing at the door so had purposefully turned his back on it and continued working.

He heard the telltale crunch of gravel as the door was pulled open and closed again with a click of the catch. He let out a long breath, calming his nervous and turned around with a confident smile. Fake it ‘till you make it, Winchester.

The confident smile lasted all of 0.0001 seconds.

The wind had picked up as the afternoon wore on and the walk from however he’d gotten there had blown Cas’ dark locks in every which way imaginable, the pink tinge of his cheeks and the dishevelled trench coat only adding to the image of debauchery that sprung to mind.

Dean groaned internally.

The teacher was shucking off his coat and adding it to the hooks just inside the door by the time Dean came back to his senses.

“Hey man, glad you could make it.”

Cas turned once he’d disposed of this outer-layer and beamed at him with a toothy grin, gesturing to the brown paper bag on the stool next to the coat hooks that Dean knew would house something delicious.

“Apple,” Cas confirmed. “As promised.”

“I didn’t doubt you for a moment,” Dean smiled back at him. “Maybe we should get some work done before we gorge ourselves on pie though?”

Part of him hoped Cas would insist they eat first but luck was not on his side when the teacher agreed with him and they had to get to work.

Within half an hour, Dean was comfortable with Cas’ skills with the machinery and went back to measuring and marking, adding the bits of wood to the pile near the teacher’s work bench.

* * *

 

They work side by side for a few hours once a week in the run up to the festival, getting into a routine where they’d take it in turns to bring pie when Cas is buying or muffins when it’s Dean’s turn.

Cas, whilst still determined not to get emotionally involved with Dean or push the younger man out of the closest before he’s ready, is silently pleased that their rocky start has slowly blossomed into a friendship of sorts. More than once a day he’ll receive a message from Dean about something that has amused him, and on occasion their texts will border on flirtations. In person, Dean is much more relaxed and open with him, his confidence is more akin to the Dean Winchester he met in the bar last year than the one who he met at the start of November, and although the flirting wasn’t as apparent as it was through text, it was definitely there. Everything was going well.

That is until the day after Thanksgiving.

Cas is unpacking his overnight bag having just arrived back at this apartment after a flying visit home to see his mother – he flew in on Wednesday evening and flew out first thing on Friday, he couldn’t say he was in any way thankful for his mother’s dire hospitality and snobbish attitude to his life choices – when his phone starts ringing.

Grabbing it from his bedside table he glances at the caller ID, surprised to see Dean’s name flash up.

“Well this is a surprise,” he answered playfully.

“Cas, thank God!” Dean’s panicked tone was enough to wipe the smile off his face.

“Dean, what’s wrong?”

“It’s ruined. The rain. We’ll never finish it in time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for bearing with me and my epic breaks between chapters. I had a massive block during the middle of this one but it's back on track now. And by track I mean the winding road that is the never ending fic... this was supposed to be a one off! 
> 
> Anyway, I'm loving the feedback so please keep it coming - you lot are awesome x


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